Henry
by Kokokirakenaquila
Summary: Henry is the typical amateur inventor. Here are stories of Henry's failed inventions.I do NOT own infernal Devices written by Cassandra Clare! This goes in each of my stories about infernal Devices.
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you for reading my first story! It fills me with happiness that **_**somebody **_**likes it. **

**I decided to write about Henry because Henry is such an interesting character to play around with. This is not a Charlotte and Henry moment (*gosh* I love that couple, they are so cute!) because this is Henry's time to shine.**

_Henry was the typical amateur inventor._

_No, _He thought to himself. He would not dumb himself down by previous accidents and incidents in the past when some of his inventions went terribly wrong. Henry kept letting loose of that idiotic opinion and grabbing it again, fingering the words in his own mind as if there was a subconscious message inside of it. He threw his handmade cog to the floor in frustration, it crashed to the floor. The clank of the metal shattered and rolled in a spiral direction on the ground.

He always wondered what Charlotte thought of him. A lowlife dreamer? A childish spouse? Nevertheless, he couldn't blame her. He let the idea about Charlotte fade in the corner on his mind, setting it aside for the future to think about later. He wondered what everybody thought of him. More importantly, what did Henry think of himself?

He leaned over and picked up the shattered part of the broken metal. He piled it on his desk and pulled out a fresh piece of drafting paper and his trusty, bitten, pencil.

_Henry was the typical amateur inventor_

No, Henry _is_ the typical amateur inventor and dreamer.

While he was planning to draft a new invention he decided to think about something to make him busy.

So Henry remembered the day when his wife had the meeting with the clave about invading De Quincy's place. They were talking about Henry's failed inventions. Charlotte remained silent as they chattered excitingly about them, entirely forgetting about De Quincy. Henry scowled, but he listened, remembering those permanent and embarrassing moments of his inventing life.


	2. the butterfly catcher

**The butterfly catcher **

Henry was just seven years old when he decided to become an inventor. His father was an inventor before he passed away. He was a great man, filled with hopes and dreams even though the public mocked him of his failed and useless inventions, but he was never the type to give up just yet and that inspired Henry to become just like his father. So, starting at just seven years old he began his first invention.

Before Charlotte came into his world, he had a crush on one of his classmates. Her name was Fauna Mcgivens. The prettiest and the most popular among his class, Henry never got the nerve to talk to her because he was just too shy. Fauna was a nice girl. She was outgoing, fun girl and she was nice to everybody. The time came when it was her birthday; luckily Henry was invited along with other boys and girls in his class. By the time he opened the envelope and read the invitation he nearly fell out of his chair. This could be his one chance to win Fauna's heart, one chance to impress her.

Fauna was a butterfly girl; she loved to catch butterflies whenever she had the opportunity to. So, Henry made his first invention, the butterfly catcher. With fishing nets, clock parts and magnets he finally came up with one. The trick to catching a butterfly is to hold the net to front of the butterfly, when target is reached you have to press a button that's facing in front of you, this will send a electrical charge through the net and into the magnet, this will cause the magnets at the ends of the nets to jump forward and clasp shut, catching the butterfly. In order not to get electrified, you have to wear the special gloves he designed. He smiled at his invention; he gave it a good inspection before wrapping it up with a nice red bow.

When the day came of the party, he watched eagerly as one by one his friends brought over their gifts for Fauna to unfold (it so happens that Benedict Lightwood was there and so was little Charlotte). Books, fountain pens, hair ribbons, _ha _thought Henry. His gift was the highest and the coolest out of all of them. When Fauna saw Henry's gift she squealed in happiness as he slowly explained what it was. Fauna and the other girls and boys happily tested it out, giving each other turns in the butterfly meadow. Henry nonchalantly leaned against the bench and watched them. One of the girls asked him if he wanted to try.

"No, that's coo'"

As he watched them play in the meadow, he wondered what would happen if one of them got electrocuted. _Probably won't kill or harm anyone, but that's not going to happen. _He mused…

"AHGHH!" Someone screamed

Henry rushed over to the meadow to find a group of children staring at Fauna near a small pond, her dress was black and burning, her skin was covered in blackish spots and her hair was spiked up.

"You're stupid machine electrocuted me!" She screamed, throwing the device to the ground "This is the **worst **party ever!" She stomped away with Henry's heart, followed by a snickering group of boys and girls.

Henry stared at the device for a long time. He bent down and scooped up the net, he saw that the button used to activate the device was broken. _It overworked when they were pressing the button too many times, this must've have sent a few bolts…_he looked at the pond. _Water…that would've been a terrible sight to see_

He sighed and kicked the net into the water and watched it sink to the floor of the pond.

_Oh well, it couldn't get any worse._

**So what did you think? Review/comment PLEASE! How many entries should I do regarding Henry's inventions? :)**


	3. The apple bomb

**The apple bomb **

Henry loved food. Peas, eggs, waffles, toast or whatever was on his plate he would voluntarily eat it. He wasn't a fat boy, his mother made him run a couple of laps around the house to keep in shape.

His most favorite food of all was apples.

In the forest, somewhere in the forest was a huge apple tree. Every day, Henry would climb up on one of the trees and swing from its branches and its apples all day. Apples had the warm, sweet and tingling sensation that played on his tongue and that made apples his favorite food. He thought that every single apple tasted different, smelled different and looked different. Though, the fruit made him act rather peculiar. He would dance around, laugh at the apple because it was so small, defenseless and it would never escape his widening mouth from eating it up and sometimes he would play ball with his apples, only to eat them later.

The apple eater would disappear mostly in the mornings and afternoons to go to the forest. Mother and father only wondered how he got so fat in just three meals for seven days so mother made him run extra and do pushups. He kept the secret of his apple trees because he was afraid that father would gate the entire forest so he couldn't go over. So on and on, and everyday….eat, run, eat, pushup….

Eat, run, pushups, eat, eat, run, pushups, eat, run

Henry grew very tall at the age of fifteen; he had somewhat of a muscular build of running, pushups and climbing trees. Girls his age (and probably younger) would sigh and swoon whenever he would pass by. He was a very good looking at his age, though he never gave any thought of it and he hardly cared.

The apple trees grew so tall in time that Henry didn't have enough strength to climb the large trunk and pick the ripe apples. In defeat and deeply sad, Henry stared at the red spheres hanging on the branches, mocking him that he couldn't pick them. Henry tried everything to knock out at least one apple down, bumping into the trees, slingshot, trying to poke to off by using a long branch but everything failed.

Then Bing!

The idea came into his head as the apple he was trying to pick off bonked on his head. He ran home with the fallen apple halfway shoved in his mouth. He started to plan the invention right away. He was going to make an apple picker. He figured that in order to get all of the apples before winter was to knock all of them down at once. He was going to make a device that would strongly shake the apple trees. Using materials from his room (and stealing a few things from his mom's bathroom) he fixed the bomb. Well, it wasn't going to really explode, just a violent vibration.

Making an additional three for the other trees, he rushed back into the apple forest. He snagged each bomb to a different tree, setting the timer for five minutes. He went far from the trees and covered his ears.

_Three, Two, One _

Sure enough, a loud vibrating noise came into the air. Startling dozens of birds and one angry moose, he looked up. He frowned; it wasn't shaking the tree like he wanted it to. In disappointment, he started to climb on one of the snagged trees to retrieve the device. The noise was so loud that it was nearly impossible to get the ringing device without covering Henry's ears. Somehow, with his eyes closed he clicked the switch to cut off the noise but it didn't work. The device kept screaming at Henry as if it didn't want to leave the apple tree. Henry opened one eye to reveal that he put the switch on the high level to maximum ringing noise. Henry fell out of the tree in shock.

The device jumped up and down, the tree began to shake but the apples didn't fall off.

_SPLAT_

Next thing Henry knew that he was covered in apple guck from head to toe. The device shrieked one more time before dying. All of his beautiful apples were gone.

The device exploded when it was too much to handle. The noise actually made the other devices bomb as well. The ground, the trees and poor Henry were covered in broken pieces of apples. Henry groaned

Not because his precious apples were gone, _How can I explain this to mother?_

**Oh, Henry. Its ok, I like bananas better. :)**

**Thank you to the people that read my 'butterfly catcher'!**


	4. The white washer machine

**Hi guys! Sorry I haven't been updating for quite a while. It's because of major writer's block…also I'm reading other books I had to finish, ha ha, lame excuse ;p. **

**Also, thank you for the wonderful comments you guys wrote! I exploded with happiness when I read them!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Infernal Devices series by the wonderful Cassandra Clare**

The automatic white washer

When Henry was about sixteen years old, he got a job painting picket fences white. It was a very messy, boring, and a tedious job but he was paid well. Though, Henry never wanted to work, but his mother got so fed up with him tinkering on his little inventions that she kicked him out of the house and demanded to get a job because one day he will have a family and he would have to help provide, shelter and good food for them in the future. So every day, in the afternoon, he would fill people's requests for painted fences.

Henry's arm ached every hour every time he painted up and down, the ache was worse when conscience told him he had several other people's fences to white wash. He was also splattered with white paint and grass stains, he was getting tired of his job. Getting a new job was out of the question; Henry would only burn food if he worked in a restaurant, or spill food on the costumers, and well, other jobs seemed out of reach for him. Slacking off was out of the question as well, mother would only kick him out of the house and demand work until dinner time.

_Ok, _he thought. I like to invent, that's something I love. I don't like white washing picket fences, that's something I hate.

While in thought and painting a rich land lord's picket fence, he watched a little girl on her swing on her front lawn. She laughed as she went merrily up and down on her red seat. Her feet swung, touching the ground when the swing went down, making a long streak on the green grass below her. His fascination with the swing, the girl and the white washing the fences problem fused together in his mind.

_Making the little girl come over with her swing set and dip her feet with white wash while standing close to the picket fence?_

Ok, not exactly.

He figured to come up with this automatic white washing machine that would do the work for him. He would have a long metal lever going up and down, attached to that would be a paint brush. For the paint, he would have a long tube attached to the lever and through the paint brushes' wooden grip. It would disperse the paint on the bristles of the brush. The tube would connect with the paint can. For the swinging motion, he would need a small steam engine, somewhat like a train's but a lot smaller, and not as complex. All he would need to do is move the machine forward when the machine put on a perfect coat of paint on one section of the fence.

With the idea gearing and spinning in the corner of his mind, he ran home (after after finishing the white picket fence and being paid the money). He quietly crept inside his home, not wanting to wake mother and raced to his workshop. There, he tinkered and tailored his newest invention, not even thinking about his unfinished inventions piled up in the corner on his room that have lost the inspiration. He didn't even need to plan it out; it was already stuck to his mind like post it notes.

He worked endlessly at the new toy until dawn when his mother found him in his workshop. Then, when he was finished, he gave it a nice coat of red paint, to hind any ugly imperfections. When he let it dry, he decided to test it out, He laid a plank of wood on his wall and set the machine in front of it, he also put a bucket of fresh white wash under it.

His chest tightened with an odd mixture of excitement and anxiety. _Will it work? Will it explode? Did I miss anything? _His mind filled with questions to only answer when he clicked the on switch.

It sputtered to life, it coughed for a moment, twitching and shaking, making a loud engine noise. Henry's heart leaped as he saw white traveling up the tube and into the paint brush. The brush jolted spilling a bit of paint on the floor, then the lever began to teeter and totter. The brush painted gracefully on the wood, making nice, even strokes. Henry gleamed.

He would be free of aching white-washing duty.

o00o

Henry leapt out of his bed, eager to start his job. This would be a different day from the others, free from back breaking, arm aching work. He slipped into his work clothes, snatched fresh toast from the toaster and kissed her mother goodbye. He picked up his machine and the bucket of white wash and dashed out the front door, the sun greeting his face warmly.

He ran to the house that he would be painting fences. It was a large mansion, fine pink tiles lined up in a unique design on the roof, a white grand porch where a rocking chair rocked back and forth with grace. When he took a glance at the backyard, he was astounded by the largeness and the beauty of it all, it had blossoming flowers and a pink blossom tree swaying in the wind, all bordered up from the outside world by an ugly brown picket fence. He told himself that he had a machine to help him, and then suddenly how large the backyard was didn't seem to challenge him anymore.

In the request, the owner said that he could go right in and white wash the fences so he did. He opened the gate to the backyard and carried the machine to the corner of the yard; he put the whitewash under and switched it on. It roared to life and began to do its work; he smiled proudly as the brush moved up and down, coating the fence into a nice and pure white. He wheeled it slowly to the next section of the fence; this would take no time to finish at all.

While he was doing his work, almost halfway to the end, he heard a small clicking noise, almost like if you tapped a penny with your fingernail. He wasn't sure if it was coming from the machine or not, he decided it didn't matter and he went on finishing the last three sections of the fence, ignoring the small clicking sound.

_Click, click, click, click, click, click, and click_

Henry wondered what he would do in his spare time; he couldn't come home just yet after doing the rest of his requests. Maybe if Martin was home he could…

_Click, click, click, click, click, click, CLICK_

He was in deep thought, wondering how much attention he would get if he introduced this to the world, why, he would more famous than Thomas Edison or…

_BANG!_

The next thing Henry knew, that the world before him turned white, he was smothered in white wash, head to toe, around him, flowers that used to pretty colors of pink and yellow where covered in white, drooping now, the grass was splattered into streaks of paint. The machine fell apart, sputtering its last cough before dying. He didn't know what caused his invention to suddenly blow up.

Henry sighed; a part of him knew that it would come to this.

A loud banging noise from the back door erupted the silence; Henry looked up to meet a frightened lady. She was wearing a straw sun hat, her mousy brown hair rested on her shoulders where it met the puffed sleeves of her yellow sun dress. She had chocolate brown eyes and she particularly small, she was about Henry's age.

The lady gazed at the paint covered man before her. She already knew it was the white washer, she had seen him come in.

"What on earth happened?" She said, stepping into the green that wasn't streaked by white, coming towards him.

Henry gave a weak smile "My latest invention blew up" He said foolishly

The lady frowned, when she was close to him, she got out her handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped some paint off of his face. She jumped a little when her eyes met enthusiastic green ones; the paint hid his meek smile. A lock of brown hair, untouched of the paint danced in the soft wind. He had a cute baby face, full smile and all. She got a lump in her throat when her eyes traced down to his strong throat, then his somewhat muscular build.

"G-Goodness, do all of your inventions result in this?" She asked, Henry's face heated up

"Yes"

"How forward" She said, looking at the white mess before her. She frowned at the white stained pansies, now dropping instead of swaying in the wind "I wanted to surprise mother and father with beautiful picket fences, and now…" Henry felt ashamed that his laziness brought him to this.

"…They'll be back in four hours" She continued

Henry hung his head

The lady picked up the paint brush lying on the ground; she spun it a few times. "I guess we'll have to fix things ourselves"

Henry looked at the lady in astonishment "Miss, I can fix this-"

She put up her hand "Dear me, no. I could use the exercise and I don't want you messing up again, besides two are better than one."

So the two of them began to finish the rest of the fence, the painted in silence until the picket fence was gleaming pearl white, the lady went to the hose and turned it on, she gave Henry the nozzle as he began to cleanse himself of the paint. Then the lady began to clean her backyard, spraying on the grass and more delicately at the flowers, sure enough it was back to its regular normal beauty.

The lady followed Henry out of the backyard; he was holding the remains of the machine in his arms. The sky was now in a nice shade or pink and purple, the sun was beginning to set.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble that I caused you Miss…"

"Miss. Carwight, but you may call be Charlotte"

Henry smiled "I'm Mr. Branwell, but you can call me Henry"

The lady smiled and went into the house; Henry began to walk home, holding the shredded parts of his device in his arms.

Maybe the machine did bring something good.

**This isn't one of my best works, but oh well, it's an ok for me. Just heads up that most of Henry's inventions that I will write in the future will probably blow up, so…yeah….**

**Review/Comment please! Tell me what you think.**


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